ClueLess
by keeponwritin
Summary: This is 'ClueLess'...from Gordo's POV.
1. The Plan

[Disclaimer: This story is an adaptation of the Lizzie McGuire episode ...from Gordo's point of view. So yes, not even the story's mine this time. What is mine, you ask? As funny as it sounds, I own Gordo's thoughts in this story. And any parts you might not recognize from the episode. :) ]  
  
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Yo, Gordon!   
  
It was Ethan yelling for me from down the hall. Ever since that one time I talked to him when I was trying to investigate deeper into his likes and dislikes, he's been talking to me. This wouldn't be that big of a problem if: 1) he was just a little bit more on the intelligent side, and 2) he didn't constantly talk about his GIRL troubles. Rhonda this, and Lisa that, and Kathy said this but I think she meant that... Sure, I liked girls as much as any other guy. But try having two boy-crazy girls as your friends for a while, and I think you'll begin to understand why I'm not used to talking about the opposite sex.  
  
Yeah, Ethan? I said, trying to act courteous. For some reason, I never really liked the guy. But I wasn't sure why. I had to force myself to be nice to him, and that's not something I usually do.  
  
Here you go, my ma-yun, he said, slapping a piece of paper into my hand. You're invited.  
  
I'm pretty sure I stood there dumbfounded for quite some time. Obviously long enough so that when I woke up, Ethan wasn't there anymore. I unfolded the paper. It read:  
  
_U R invitid 2 Ethan'z murder misteree partay  
Saterday @ 3 pm @ Lizzi's house  
(come to room #101 b4 dismissul 4 chosing partz)_  
  
Yep, Ethan definitely wrote it himself. Why was it at Lizzie's house? Not that I had a problem with that, since I'd probably be more comfortable and familiar with her house, but usually people have their own parties at their own houses.  
  
Oh well. It's not like I wouldn't have been at Lizzie's house on Saturday anyway.  
  
~~~~~  
  
I walked into Room #101 at approximately 2:50 at the end of the school day to find Lizzie, Ethan, Kate, and Kate's cousin Amy there. I pondered asking Amy why she was hanging out with a bunch of 8th graders during her valuable time, but to be honest, she kind of scares me sometimes.  
  
I sat down at a desk far from Kate and Amy, isolating myself from everyone. Unfortunately, there weren't enough seats to do that. Larry came in the room, followed by Veruca...who sat next to me.   
  
So besides Kate, Ethan, and Amy, this wasn't too bad of a bunch. No, quite the contrary, this could be very fun.   
  
Who am I kidding? Ethan would be there. Lizzie would spent her whole time trying to get Ethan to notice her in a romantic sense but would fail miserably because she refuses to realize that he's too stupid to see what a funny, smart, beautiful, fun, cool...  
  
Stop. Stop now, Gordon, before you do something stupid.   
  
But there's no point to being in denial anymore.  
  
I love Lizzie McGuire. It's not anything too new. I'm honestly not sure how long I have. But it wasn't until I saw her kiss Ronnie Jacobs that I even thought about the possibility that something was there. I don't really want to talk about it. I can't even think about it without knowing that I should've told her my true feelings already, and beating myself up for not having done this. I kicked my legs around as I sat up on the desk.  
  
Next thing we have to do is pick our characters for the mystery, Lizzie stated. She held out the hat for Ethan to pick out of. He read his card.  
  
Clive McGuffin. He grinned and nodded in approval. Awesome. I'm heir to the McGuffin fortune, and I'm gonna marry Penelope Featherstone, he said as he surveyed the room, looking at all his potential .  
  
Of course Ethan got to be the rich, regal main character guy. Even at a fictional murder mystery party, he's still the popular one.  
  
He swaggered over towards me, Lizzie trailing happily behind him, like a puppy on a leash.  
  
she said, holding the hat out towards me.  
  
I sighed, expecting the inevitable: I'd be some poor nobody that everybody would overlook. Maybe if I was Clive McGuffin, people might actually care about me.  
  
I read my card.  
  
And I'm Penelope Featherstone, the blushing maiden that Clive is making his own. I looked around. Can I pick again?  
  
Lizzie says, once again holding out the hat. I picked a card.  
  
Aubrey Carstairs, I read. She hands me the other card. Lord McGuffin's old war buddy. It didn't sound too bad. At least I was related to the guy that got murdered. Still, I wasn't too enthused. Hey, beats being Ethan's wife.  
  
The rest of the crew picked their characters. They, too, were, for the most part, . I didn't understand how they could be so cool with being of minor importance at this thing. The only that hadn't picked yet was Lizzie.  
  
I guess I'll just...take whatever's left, she said. Digging into the hat, she read the last card there. And I'm Penelope Featherstone! she squeals. I'm the bride! I'm the bride!  
  
I tried not to look too sad. It wasn't the first time. I'd spent most of my life trying to be happy for Lizzie when she got closer to whoever her crush of the moment was.  
  
Ethan said, dumbly. Well, my mom'll be coming, too, you know...to supervise. Well, see y'all Saturday at Lizzie's. He walked out the door, as the other filed out behind him. I hop off my desk and walk over to Lizzie.  
  
I get to be the bride, she beamed.  
  
And I get to be the low-key best friend that nobody notices, I sighed.  
  
Gordo, what are you talking about? I'm sorry to say this, but sometimes, Lizzie just..doesn't understand.  
  
Nothing. It's just that this will just be another one of those parties where everyone's drooling over Ethan, and I'm just a footnote. I think when I said , I meant Lizzie and Kate. And I know Miranda would, too, if she was here. Maybe it was just a little bit of an exaggeration.  
  
Oh, come on, Gordo, people notice you. Right. And Ethan Craft is a nerd. And I will totally notice you if solve this mystery before I do. We started to head out the door. Because I have been reading Nancy Drew since I was like, 8, and I'm totally going to solve this murder.  
  
Yeah, well, you're going to have beat the low-key best friend that nobody notices, I said cynically as I gave her the thumbs-up. Stiff competition. I walked away.  
  
And as I walked down the hall, I heard Lizzie squeal, I'm the bride!  
  
I rolled my eyes once more. Usually, I'd never had to deal with one of Lizzie's crushes for more than a few months or so. I'd been dealing with Ethan for almost two years now. He really got on my nerves sometimes. Well...no. It wasn't him that got on my nerves. It was the fact that the only reason any girl liked him was because he had nice hair...that, and he was the most popular guy at school. I knew Lizzie was deeper than that. I thought she had more sense.   
  
But something that she said...had struck a nerve.  
  
_And I will totally notice you if you solve this mystery before I do..._  
  
I don't know what I did at that second, whether I laughed, I grinned, or I just kept the same staid look on my face, but I knew one thing:  
  
I had a plan.  
  
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[A/N: Yahoo! This is the story I said I'd be posting on Wednesday, but to balance things out a little, I'm putting it here today. (Plus, I had it done anyway so there wasn't really a reason to keep you waiting.)  
  
I wonder if anyone likes this story. LoL, I'm trying not to copy the episode exactly...because the show is in Lizzie's POV. This is in Gordo's POV. Not everything in the episode will be in this story, and not everything in this story will be from the episode.   
  
I really hope people like this story, because I spent nearly an hour and a half copying down all the dialogue from the episode. So...let's hope my hard work paid off.  
  
Let me know what you think: please review. Thanks!]


	2. From The Very First Clue

[Disclaimer: I don't own the episode , I don't own Lizzie McGuire, I don't own this plot and I don't own most of the dialogue. But I own Gordo's thoughts, and that's not ssomething everyone can say, now is it? Heh, heh, heh.]  
  
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I sat there in my suit in Lizzie's backyard. I was bored. Real bored. The only people around were Veruca, Kate, Amy...a bunch of people I didn't care for. Was coming even worth it? I could've made up some excuse, like...like...  
  
Okay, maybe I couldn't have come up with an excuse. If only I'd picked a better part...like Clive McGuffin. Then I could be married to Lizzie.   
  
But I'd go through with my plan. So maybe it wasn't foolproof, but it was close. I knew what I was doing. I was smart, right? Figuring out this murder mystery wouldn't be too hard, right?   
  
I needed to calm down. My plan would work. I'd make it. I get so worked up about these things sometimes, but I guess rightfully so. Nothing's ever what it seems with Lizzie. I used to think she was really naive, and there was a period of time in 7th grade in which I questioned my friendship with her--whether she was really the type of person I wanted to be spending my time with. I never questioned things with Miranda, because I knew we thought alike and really had that deeper connection, but that's exactly what my friendship with Lizzie was lacking--a deeper meaning. I heard the other kids at school. They wondered why this smart, non-conforming guy was still hanging out with this ditzy, clumsy Kate wannabe. The truth was, we never really chose to be friends. Our parents were friends and we just kind of got, in a way, stuck together, and as we grew up, being around each other was habit, almost instinctual.   
  
Don't get me wrong. If we really clashed way back when, we could've gone our separate ways, found other friends, and gone about our lives as normal. And there were times, even at age 3, that I wondered why I was spending all my time with a girl, and tried to detach myself from her. But she was always so persistent in making our friendship work. She was the peacemaker in all situations, especially after we met Miranda--because let's face it, Miranda's always been a little rebelliious instigator. (One time in 1st grade, our teacher, Mrs. Lill, set down crayons on everyone's desk and said, We're going to color, children! But I guess Miranda Sanchez had different plans, because she started chucking her crayons at the teacher and shrieking, I don't want to color! I don't want to color! The other kids in the class stared on in disbelief, but I just got a good kick out of it.)   
  
Lizzie, Miranda, and Gordo. The Three Musketeers. We were inseparable, and while other kids were having fights over trivial things, we never fought. Well, there was this one time in 3rd grade where I got really mad at Lizzie, but that only lasted until the bus ride home. I regret that feud, too.   
  
I guess I should mention Kate. We met her in 1st grade, but obviously our friendships with her didn't mean much. Besides, three was already a crowd, and Kate wasn't the nicest of people (even during her pre-cheerleader days). I didn't like her much. Miranda didn't like her much. But Lizzie did. So we hung out with her...sometimes.   
  
In a way, junior high broke us. The complications of it made everything that seemed so simple before go completely awry. We suddenly didn't know who our friends were, why we hung out with them, or even who we were. I went through that with Lizzie and Miranda. I know they went through that with me. And that's when my feelings for Lizzie started changing. I wanted to blame it on hormones, but I knew that wasn't right. I knew I was falling in love with my best friend, Lizzie McGuire.  
  
Ah, buenos tardes, mon amigo, Larry said in his fake Brazilian accent, approaching me. Is this seat taken?  
  
Larry seemed to be getting really into this murder mystery thing. I should've known...he's not exactly unfamiliar with role-playing games.  
  
'Course, old boy, do help yourself, I said, also getting into my character, English accent and all. Good show, old chap. So this could be fun.  
  
And to this astounding creature, I can only say... he said, turning around to the face the woman behind us, Hello. I am Guy Gaviota. Oh man, Tudgeman's putting the moves on Ethan's stepmom. This was classic, but I'm not that mean.  
  
I coughed into my fist with the words ETHAN'S STEPMOM' protruding from my mouth.   
  
Larry asked.  
  
It's Ethan's stepmom, I whispered back.   
  
Holy Mizoli, he said, in a state of shock. Are you sure that Ethan's stepmom?  
  
I said, quietly, nodding and trying hard not to laugh. Ah...Tudgeman.  
  
My ears perked up at the sound of a thick Cockney accent. Was that...Mrs. McGuire?! Wow, I never thought she'd get deep into character, too.   
  
Mrs. McGuire asked Ethan's stepmom, holding out the platter of shrimp.  
  
Uh-uh. I'm five ten in heels, the woman responded, dumbly. Larry and I tried not to laugh too loud.  
  
Must be something in the water at Ethan's house, I said, unconspiciously.  
  
Larry laughed, agreeing. So, who do you think the murderer is?  
  
Uh, Larry? No one's been murdered yet.  
  
I knew that, he said quickly, to save his own butt.  
  
Just then, a wedding march began to play softly, yet loud enough so that we knew to talk no longer. I turned around to see Lizzie in a beautiful white wedding dress, smiling as she processed down the aisle. She was so beautiful that for a second, I imagined it was our wedding day. Not Penelope Featherstone and Aubrey Carstairs. Us, Lizzie McGuire and David Gordon. I'll just keep on dreaming, though. Because it was Ethan who greeted Lizzie near the front, murdering my fantasy. Just as we were about to begin, an ear-shattering scream came from inside. Mrs. McGuire came running down the aisle towards Lizzie and Ethan.  
  
Heaven help us! Heaven help us! she yelled, once again in the same Cockney accent as before. His Lordship's been murdered! Come quick! She moaned in agony.  
  
We all rushed out of our seats and into the house. On the wooden floor of Lizzie's kitchen laid Lord McGuffin (Mr. McGuire, actually), dead, with a fancy wine glass in one hand and a sandwich in the other.  
  
The poor dear, what happened to him? Kate said in her English accent, which was sort of...awkward.  
  
I think we can rule out trampled to death by elephants, I said, trying to make light of a serious situation.  
  
Well, I know one's thing for sure. He bloody well ruined my wedding, Lizzie complained.  
  
It looks to me that poison is the thing that sent this unhappy man unto his reward, Larry said, gravely.  
  
But...who would do such a thing? Veruca asked. Mrs. McGuire backed up from the circle surrounding the body.  
  
You all had motive. And you all had oppurtunity, she said, accusingly. Somebody in this house is a murderer.  
  
I, among others, backed away from Mrs. McGuire, as not to be accused too early in the game. At that second, Mr. McGuire stood up.  
  
Well, if anybody needs me, I'll be watching TV, he said.  
  
Sam, you're supposed to be a corpse, Mrs. McGuire, in her normal voice, whined.  
  
There's no reason a corpse can't watch Iron Chef', he said as he began to leave.  
  
she said, giving up. And she returned to her accent. And I say again! Somebody in this room is a murderer. Somebody's poisoned my Lord and Master! She began to sob like no other.  
  
My father's dead, Ethan said, he, too, beginning to cry.  
  
Yes! I inherit everything! Ethan's stepmom exclaimed giddily.  
  
Uh, Tawny? Not my real dad. The one in the murder mystery, Ethan stated. Tawny chuckled nervously.  
  
I was glad the murder mystery had finally begun. Now all I had to do was figure it out, and then Lizzie would notice me. And then maybe I could...well, we'll crose that bridge when we come to it.  
  
My, my, I shudder at the very thought of murder, Kate said, sitting. Maybe the poor dear just...choked.  
  
That's what somebody would've liked us to think, Lizzie said, kneeling down. She picked up the sandwich that Lord McGuffin had been holding. But this is a liverwurst sandwich. And I know for a fact that the Lordship would've never eaten liverwurst.  
  
Here was my big chance. I could get in there, show off what I knew, and begin my way towards victory. I knelt down next to Lizzie.  
  
Well, apparently, that someone was a woman. Lipstick on the bread, don't you know? The look on her face at that moment was priceless. Perhaps you...overlooked it, I said, cynically.  
  
Lizzie rolled her eyes and placed the sandwich back on the ground, slowly and despondently.  
  
I was on my way.  
  
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[A/N: I wrote 1380+ words of this chapter between last night and now. It only probably took me about an HOUR to write this. And that's a dang world record, I swear, because it usually takes me almost 3. Not that I know exactly, because I never work straight hours. It's always split up across the week.  
  
Anyway, I've got one story on FictionPress.net. And I checked that site last night, and I have to say, it looks pretty snazzy! I like the red. They should make FF.net that pretty. :)  
  
I'm amazed at the positive turn-out of reviews on this thing. 18 reviews on ONE chapter..that's bloody amazing. I love writing this (as apparent by the page-long string of paragraphs containing all of Gordo's thoughts) and I'm so happy people like it.   
  
Did you like this chapter? Pleaseee, lemme know. Please review. Thanks!]


	3. Is It Obvious?

[Disclaimer: I don't own the episode , I don't own Lizzie McGuire, and I don't own the company , either. But that'd be pretty cool, wouldn't it? Yeah, then I could have Jell-O constantly stocked in my refrigerator and eat it whenever I want...um, back to the disclaimer. What do I own? I own Gordo's thoughts and any events/dialogue you don't recognize from the episode.]  
  
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I tip-toed up the staircase, careful not to make too much noise. If I made too much noise, someone might follow me. If someone followed me, they could steal my clues. If someone stole my clues, they could figure out the mystery before me. And if I've said it once, I've said it a million times--I'm going to figure out this mystery if it's the last thing I do.   
  
Wow, it's kind of sad--I've never been this determined about anything before. Does Lizzie really mean that much to me? What'll happen if I don't figure it out? I'll be disappointed, yeah, but how disappointed are we talking about here? I really need to get to know myself a little better. I know Lizzie better than I know myself. But I guess that's what happens when you start liking someone at the same period of your life when you're supposed to be figuring out who you are. At least, that's what my parents said I should be worried about. It's kind of sad, really. Most parents are always telling their kids to put others' feelings before their own. Mine taught me to be selfish. It's supposedly the best way to live your life, but luckily, I was smart enough to realize that I can forge my own path, if I really wanted to. And I did. If I followed their advice, I'd probably be some friendless, antisocial whack job--probably one of my parent's own patients. Maybe that's the psychology they use: give people bad advice so they end up even screwier than before, so then they come back for more.  
  
Okay, focus, Gordon. You're here to win, not to ponder about your parent's business tactics. Since the downstairs is more open, there'd be less places to hide clues, right? So I'll go upstairs. No, wait, all those rooms are off limits. So I'll check the living room..yeah, that's it. I'll check the living room.   
  
Luckily, everyone was outside on the porch. Is it just me, or am I the only one trying to figure this one out?   
  
Ooh! I found a clue! I heard Lizzie squeal from the kitchen. Er, nevermind...  
  
Oh yeah. She's trying to figure it out. To impress Ethan, of course. Did Lizzie ever do anything for herself, for her own pleasure? I'm such a hypocrite. But she liked Ethan because he was a pretty face, whereas I liked Lizzie becau--  
  
Are you standing there for any particular reason? Mr. McGuire asked, snapping me out of my trance. He was lounging in the recliner, watching Iron Chef, as promised. I didn't even notice his presence, and I probably looked like an idiot, standing there completely still for several minutes. At least this was Mr. McGuire, someone I'd known my whole life, and not someone like Kate, who would insult me to no end had she seen me like this.  
  
I was doing it again. Overthinking. I'm never going to get this mystery solved if I keep thinking like this. Wait, that came out wrong...  
  
I said, blankly. He just shook his head at me, disapprovingly. I started to search around the shelves for a clue. If Mr. McGuire wasn't there, I'd be frantically throwing the books around. But since he was, I had to straighten up after myself, likes putting books and frames back in their proper place. In the middle of my quest through the living room, Mr. McGuire spoke up again.  
  
If you're looking for clues, Gordo, this isn't the best place to be looking, he stated. I should've been gracious for the help, but instead, I felt annoyed. Maybe I wanted to do a thorough search. Maybe I wanted to look here.  
  
You know, chap, you're being quite a kibitzer, don't you know? I said, bitterly, but still smiling and using the same friendly English accent. Then I stormed out of the room.  
  
If that were any other adult, I'd be grounded already. But me and Mr. McGuire...we're tight. Like brothers. Oh, who am I kidding? He probably already hates my guts. Let's just hope he doesn't know what a is.  
  
I wasn't sure if the upstairs really were off-limits. I decided to check with Matt, who I suspected was in his room. But when I reached the foyer, I saw Lizzie standing there with a hanky and a ticket in her hand, and, by the looks of it, accusing the maid (Mrs. McGuire, that is).   
  
...Or perhaps you just need to leave the country until the heat dies down, Lizzie affirmed. I didn't even need to hear the whole conversation. I knew what she was trying to insinuate--that the maid had murdered Lord McGuffin and was going to flee. But I knew the truth.  
  
As Mrs. McGuire burst into another sob, I hopped up the steps next to Lizzie.  
  
If you're implying that my poor maid here did my old friend McGuffin, perhaps you can explain to me why she had his handkerchief. I picked up the hanky. See the monogram? If that's not finesse, I have no clue what it is.  
  
Lizzie read. Spencer McGuffin. She felt silly, and I could feel it. It gave me a sick pleasure, somehow, seeing her like that. Yeah, it's cool that she's become more confident in the last couple years, but for me, that was a burden. Now she was more assertive...particularly, with guys. But losing this game brought down her morale, and she became more and more vulernable. I almost felt bad. Almost being the operative word.  
  
I don't think that this young lady harmed Lord McGuffin. I think that she was going to France with him. Isn't that right, my dear? I said, smiling at Mrs. McGuire. But she just began to bawl again.  
  
Cheer up, old pet. Things will get better, you'll see. Think of singing blue jays and rainbows, Kate chirped gleefully. Then she shuddered. Okay, I'm creeping myself out here!  
  
You're not the only one,' I thought as I shot her a disturbed look. I turned back to Lizzie.  
  
Carry on, but do try harder. I play-punched her in the shoulder. There's a good girl. I hopped back down the steps.   
  
I knew I was annoying her, but--I can't believe I'm saying this--she's kinda cute when she's mad.  
  
I walked around the kitchen for a few minutes. This was tedious. I wanted to win, but I wasn't any closer to winning than when I began. Giving up was not even an option. But I wanted so bad to just find the final clue, have Lizzie being impressed me with me, ask her out, and be done with this night.  
  
I opened the refrigerator, looking for anything to eat. I hadn't eaten dinner and now my hunger was catching up with me. But as soon as I went to reach for a cup of cherry Jell-O, the sound of an angry voice came up behind me.  
  
I know what you're up to, Gordon, it said to me. I turned around to face none other than Kate Sanders, with her hands on her hips. And I have to say, I didn't know you had it in you.  
  
Taking the cup of Jell-O and grabbing a spoon out of the drawer, I said to her, I really don't know what you're talking about. But if you want some Jell-O, feel free. It's on the second shel--  
  
Gordo, you know exactly what I'm talking about, she snapped. Why you're so determined to win this thing.  
  
Oh, you finally found me out Kate---I actually don't want to just sit around and socialize all night like the rest of you lemmings. I'm sorry for wanting to partcipate in the reason that we're all here tonight, I said, sarcastically.  
  
You know you just want to figure this thing out to impress Lizzie, she stated plainly. Argh, how does Kate always figure these things out? I figured Miranda knew, but Kate? Was it that obvious? I really needed to stop staring at Lizzie so often, or by the end of the year, the whole school'll know. Except maybe Lizzie. She'd still be off in her fantasy land where Ethan Craft actually thinks of her as more than just a friend. I had to fight fire with fire--I'd just act nonchalant. I could play this off fine...hopefully.  
  
Even if I knew what you were talking about, I probably still wouldn't know what to say, I said as I began to shovel the gelatin into my mouth.   
  
What I'm talking about is that you're totally in love with Lizzie, and you think that if you figure this mystery out, she'll be impressed, and you'll be able to make your move, she said, taking a seat.  
  
See, there's one reason I really never liked Kate much. She wasn't afraid of confrontation. Yeah, Miranda wasn't, either, but I knew she knew I liked Lizzie, yet she's never been straightforward about it. Kate, on the other hand, had no problem embarrassing me.  
  
Yep, you sure figured me out, Kate. I put my empty cup in the sink. If you have any other brilliant realizations tonight, just let me know. I'll be around.  
  
I saw her roll her eyes and I passed by her at the island table. I played it off pretty well, in my opinion, but I couldn't help but wonder for the next hour or so...  
  
Is my crush on Lizzie that obvious?  
  
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[A/N: Yes, Gordo, it is. Heheh, just kidding. I sure do love Gordo. And I love all of you reviewers! 28 reviews for only 2 chapters, that's bloody amazing. This story will only have 2 more chapters, yes. Sad, I know, but the episode only lasts half an hour. And I can only add so much to it before it becomes too much, you know? Yes, you know.  
  
Ah, so here I am, is about to premiere in about 10 minutes and I am rather excited. I gotta go get ready so I'll make this brief.   
  
The next story to be updated: The Trials and Tribulations of David Zephyr Gordon. (My personal fave!).   
  
Lemme know what you think: pleaseee review. Thanks!]  
  



	4. An Important Decision

[Disclaimer: I don't own the show Lizzie McGuire. I don't own the episode . I don't own Gordo (but I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish I did). What do I own? Gordo's thoughts, any events you don't recognize from the episode, and the nifty rainbow bracelet around my wrist that I've had since I was like, 5. Anyways, onto the story!]  
  
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Even though my encounter with Kate was rather unsettling, I tried my best to carry on. But now there were a few things I wasn't sure about.  
  
If I won this thing, I would be proving Kate right, and that's not a smart move. I could hear her annoying, gloating voice already. But if I won, I could impress Lizzie...and maybe ask her out. Maybe. The only reason Kate would gloat about it is if I chickened out of it. Kate knowing that I like Lizzie wouldn't be very valuable information...if I tell Lizzie first.   
  
But even if I don't win this, she'll probably still tell everyone at school about it. She was like that. The words and are not in her vocabulary. Is losing the whole game just to avoid some ridicule on Monday really worth it, when it came to matters of Lizzie?  
  
To win or not to win. That is the question.  
  
Look at me. I'm deciding whether or not I want to win before I even know if I can win.   
  
I was overthinking things. I needed to finally get down to business and just do this.   
  
But first, I needed to know if upstairs was off-limits.   
  
So I got up out of my chair and trudged up the staircase. I felt restless. _I can figure this out_',' I kept telling myself. _I think I can, I think I can, I think I can..._'  
  
I pushed open the door and peered into Matt's room. Hm, no one's there. So I tiptoed my way over to Lizzie's room and knocked on the door.   
  
a familiar voice came bellowing out to me.   
  
I said, opening the door, what are you doing in Lizzie's room?  
  
When I finally got a good look at Matt, I saw him hurriedly burrowing through each of Lizzie's bureau drawers, one by one, in search of something obviously important.  
  
I repeated. He didn't even flinch.   
  
Suddenly, he stopped what he was doing and turned around very slowly. (For dramatic effect, of course. I wouldn't expect any less. After all, this is Matt McGuire we're talking about.) Then, hands on hips, he walked towards me, squinting his eyes and glaring at me.  
  
You just called me...Matthew, he said, in disgust by his own full name.  
  
And you're in Lizzie's room. I smiled deviously. After a second or two, his eyes began to open.  
  
You're a clever one, Gordon, he said as she shook his finger at me.  
  
You know it. I looked down at the empty drawer and the various clothes sprawled out across Lizzie's bedroom floor. So what exactly are you doing in here?  
  
I'm not at liberty to discuss my presence here tonight, he whispered. Returning to his normal tone of voice, he asked, loudly, And why are YOU so worried? Perhaps the final clue is hidden in this room, leading me to the murderer of Lord McGuffin....also known as AUBREY CARSTAIRS!  
  
That's really what you think? I laughed. Well, all's fair in love, war, and murder mystery parties.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
I walked down the steps halfway and sat. Burying my head in my hands, I knew it was hopeless. Someone else was going to win this, and I'd just have to deal with that. One of the most important lessons in life is learning when to let go, when to just say, I've had enough. I couldn't expect everything to go my way tonight. That was just being unrealistic. I just had to let go, and lose gracefully.  
  
But as if a light bulb clicked off in my head, an idea came to me, and gave me the assurance that even if I didn't win tonight, I'd still get Lizzie to notice me. And it was when this light bulb went off in my mind that I even began to believe that maybe tonight would be the night. I'd thought about it, but this party had seemed so far off. And here I am, now, and by the time this night is over, my life could either be perfect....or ruined beyond repair.  
  
I peered through the little pilasters of the railing. There was Larry and Veruca...staring intently at each other. Did I miss something in my trance of determination during this whole party? Are they together now? Why can Tudgeman get a girl, and I can't? Wow, I really am a wimp.  
  
Oh, perfect. Lizzie's chatting away with Ethan. Probably devising some plan that'll never work. I shouldn't be thinking such hostile thoughts about my best friend, but this wasn't just a murder mystery party. It was all-out war.  
  
Now all we have to do is get your father's wine glass to see what did him in, I heard Lizzie say. The wine glass was probably the final clue and could be the solution to the mystery. Somehow, someway, I had to steal that glass from her. But what could I do? Just go over there and steal it?  
  
Ah, splendid. Just the thing. I'll just give this little beauty the once-over, and make some headway, what? And that's just what I did---squatted down and stolen the glass before she could ever lay her dainty little fingers on it.  
  
Lizzie whispered loudly.   
  
I asked, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that I had blatantly stolen a clue from her and that she was angry.  
  
Well, why are you taking all of my clues? she said, impatiently.   
  
Because I want to figure out this murder mystery because I want to impress you because I want you to like me because I'm in love with you, Lizzie McGuire! ...At least, that's what I should've said.  
  
You're the one that wants to solve the mystery and you want Ethan to notice you. I don't think you can do both. Basically, Lizzie and I were in the same predicament. What made me think that Lizzie couldn't do both, but I could? I'm such a hypocrite sometimes.  
  
Well, you know what? she said, in a huff. I don't think that you can play this game without being a total dirk about it. Oh, now I'm the one being a dirk? She's the one who's being a total overachiever here....making Ethan like her and solving the mystery.  
  
Hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite.  
  
Too bad, I said, harshly as we both stood up. Back to my English accent, I said, Still, I shouldn't think that dirk' is in the vocabulary of young Penelope. You might want to brush up on that. I was being a dirk, a cynic---an all-around jerk, really. I could've redeemed myself that second. Instead, I stole the glass from her. Thanks for the glass, I grumbled, and ran off up the stairs.  
  
she called after me.  
  
I was getting way ahead of myself here. But I had no chance to think before being dragged across the living room floor by Lizzie, all the way onto the back porch.  
  
Spot of fresh air, eh? I said, again feigning forgetfulness and just acting jolly. I suppose that's all very well, but it does keep one from tip-top sleuthing, what?  
  
she said, contemptuously, what is going on in there, I mean...  
  
What interrupted us was Matt, approaching us slowly with something behind his back.  
  
Madam, allow me to inquire as whether you recognize... He pulled out a pair of shiny, light blue pajama pants from behind his back. THIS item of clothing?  
  
Matt! Those are my pajama bottoms! Lizzie screeched. I just laughed, knowing now why he was searching her drawers earlier.  
  
he said, accusingly. Which is why I've taken the liberty of showing these to everyone this evening! Crazy kid.  
  
Matt, if you don't go put those in my room right now, I'm gonna give you a wedgie that is so bad, you're going to have to unzip your pants to see! When Lizzie's mad, she's mad. Even I felt a little frightened standing there watch her threaten her little brother.  
  
Very well, Matt said, passively. I bid you good day, madam.  
  
You are so weird, Lizzie mumbled under her breath.  
  
I said, GOOD DAY, madam! he yelled, before exiting the way he came in.  
  
So our little encounter with Matt proved to be a humorous experience...if only I could say the same for what happened next.  
  
Okay, Gordo, what is going on here? Ask a stupid question, you're gonna get a stupid answer.  
  
Well, as I understand, I began, sarcastically, wealthy Lord McGuffin was murdered by one of the guests at his son's wedding.  
  
Gordo, I mean, what's going on with you? It's like you're obsessed with winning. I thought you didn't care anything about this. People always assumed I didn't care. Even Lizzie usually thought I didn't care about most things. Why is it so hard to believe that I'm capable of caring?  
  
Well, I decided I wanted to win, I stated firmly. That shouldn't worry you. With your Nancy Drew training' and whatnot.   
  
Okay, you don't have to worry about me because I am going to win this thing and Ethan is going to be impressed with me and this is going to be the best murder mystery party ever. I rolled my eyes.  
  
And may the best man win, I growled indignantly.  
  
Have at it, she huffed.  
  
Have at it, I repeated.  
  
We sprinted inside the house. Now the pressure was really on. Now this was more like a competition than a social event. For Lizzie and me, at the least. I searched every square inch of the McGuire household twice. On my third way around, I passed by an upstairs bookcase. A slip of paper was wedged in between two books. I grabbed it out of its confinement and examined it.   
  
I was smiling uncontrollably after that. I'd found the last clue...I knew who had done it now. Now Lizzie could be impressed with me, and everything could go my way. I'd finally done it. Wow.....wow. It was hard to keep myself from yelling out loud, I FOUND IT!  
  
But then another thought crossed my mind. Would Lizzie even be impressed with me now? She'd probably hate me, not only for making her lose but for precluding her from impressing the almighty Ethan. But if I let her win, she wouldn't know that I did. In fact, she'd most likely brag about it for weeks on end afterwards.   
  
I debated with myself for at least 10 minutes, only coming to realize that I just had to use my best judgment in this. And I knew that I had, as I placed the paper back onto the bookcase shelf.  
  
For Lizzie to find.  
  
-------------------------------------  
  
[A/N: This was almost 2,000 words. That's insane! I've never written a chapter this long. I guess I just got really into it. I love Gordo. Don't you?  
  
Well, next chapter's the last one. It's gonna be a doozy, lemme tell you now. I don't even want to determine a date by which it'll be up, because I want it to be *just* right...aka, for once, I will actually go back, revise, change things...et cetera. That's not something I do regularly.  
  
I only had 400 words when I started writing this about an hour or two ago. That's bloody insane!  
  
Well, as usual, lemme know what you think: please review. Thanks!]  



	5. One Last Chance

[Disclaimer: I don't own the TV show Lizzie McGuire, I don't own the episode , and much to my dismay, I don't own Gordo either. What do I own? I own Gordo's thoughts and any scenes you don't recall from the episode. Recognize.]  
  
---------------------  
  
I was such an idiot.   
  
I just left the last clue, the clue to the solution of the puzzle, in plain view. And Lizzie was the only other person actually looking for clues. She'd find it, and figure this out...  
  
I was such an idiot.  
  
Disheartened didn't begin to describe it. How could I mess up my life like this? I could grow up to be a famous director and have all the power and money in the world, but if Lizzie wasn't there to relish it all with me, it didn't mean a thing, as sappy and oversentimental as it sounds. This was the perfect night to tell her. Perfect, absolutely flawless.   
  
So this was it. I'd tell Lizzie I liked her, even if it killed me. Tonight, I'd do it.  
  
My heart raced at the thought. The ultimate question of is it worth it?' kept coming back up. If Lizzie did like me back, then it was. But if she didn't, I wasn't just risking rejection. I was risking an entire friendship built on the sole fact that we tell each other practically everything. I couldn't stomach a friendship with Lizzie if she said she didn't like me.  
  
Lady trouble again, young lad? Larry said, taking a seat next to me on the steps. It wasn't just lady' trouble. This wasn't Brooke or any other girl where our relationship was strictly romantic. This was Lizzie. We had a history together...it was complicated. Lucky boy.  
  
Lucky? Far from it, I grumbled.   
  
I know your predicament, Gordo, he said in his normal voice. I know your predicament probably better than you do.  
  
I said superciliously.  
  
Fine, you don't have to believe me. But take my advice: don't tell her. He trotted away.  
  
Was Larry some sort of mind-reader? Maybe he did know my predicament. It was too eerie, too ironic for it to be true. Why should I listen to Larry, anyway? He might've been smart, but what did he know about friendship?  
  
Suddenly, Lizzie ran down the stairs, panicking. Her face was flushed.  
  
Hey, Lizzie, I said to her. Are you okay?  
  
Oh, hey, Gordo, she said nervously.   
  
Well, I was just thinking... I started.  
  
Listen, Gordo, I'd....love to stay and talk...but um....I can't. I...I found out the killer...person...dude...guy...and I'm revealing...gonna go...see you, she said as she ran around the corner to the living room.  
  
She found it....now it was official. She'd found it and my life was over. Call me melodramatic, but I don't think anyone could understand what I was going through at that second.  
  
So I trudged my way towards the seats in the living room and plopped down in one. Larry and Veruca were already sitting next to each other on the couch.   
  
EVERYBODY GATHER IN THE LIVING ROOM! THE MURDERER HAS BEEN FOUND! Mrs. McGuire screamed, loud enough to wake the dead (no pun intended).  
  
One by one, everyone gathered and took their seats.  
  
The meeting shall begin...now, Mrs. McGuire said, before slipping away into the shadows.  
  
Lizzie got up and stood in front of her audience.  
  
Someone in this audience poisoned Lord McGuffin. And I know who that one person is, she huffed pompously.  
  
I saw her gripping a small piece of paper in her hands. She did know who it was. I hated myself in those moments. I hated myself wih a passion.  
  
I'll bet it was the butler, Mr. McGuire said, matter-of-factly.  
  
We don't have a butler, Lizzie protested.  
  
I thought there was always a butler, he said quizzically.  
  
Dad, be quiet. You're supposed to be dead. I heard Mr. McGuire grunt behind me. Lizzie continued, Everyone in this room had a reason to want Lord McGuffin out of the way. She looked over at Ethan. My fiance and I would have inherited all of his money. She peered over at her mom. The maid was jealous that he was having a secret romance with Esme Upshaw.  
  
I sighed. She knew, and it's my fault. I could be up there, announcing to the world that I figured it out. But instead, I had to go and leave the clue there for her to find out. She should thank me...but I knew she'd just gloat.  
  
Aubrey Carstairs never forgave him for marrying his sister. She gave me a quick glance and inhaled. And there's one other person that I would have never suspected. And I didn't know until I found this 1,000 pound note. She held up the paper.  
  
I hate me. I hate me. I hate me.  
  
That little piece of paper weighs a thousand pounds? Ethan asked, astonished. Just when you're beginning to think Ethan's not that stupid, he comes back with a comment like that.  
  
No...it's British money. A pound is like a dollar, Larry began to explain. It...why am I even bothering to explain this? The world may never know.  
  
As I was saying, Lizzie resumed, This thousand-pound note was loot from the Great Train Robbery, and only one person could've had it...  
  
She stole a quick glance at me. I was just shaking my head disapprovingly at myself. I hated me so much. I'd give so much to be with her and I screw up the best chance I've had in a while. Things weren't over yet, though..  
  
And, um... Lizzie kept looking down at me. I saw her in the corner of my eye. I shouldn't have been so mean to her today, and I know I shouldn't have. I was a dirk and a half. That one person, our mystery culprit, is... She inhaled. It's Guy Gaviotta!  
  
What? That didn't make any sense...Guy Gaviotta wasn't anywhere near the Great Train Robbery. I shot her a look as to say, What were you thinking?'  
  
Larry and Veruca stood up.  
  
He did not do it! Veruca said, quick to his defense.  
  
I looked up and smiled.   
  
I'd been given a second chance.  
  
I stood up.  
  
Guy Gaviotta did not do it. The thousand pound note was the last piece of the puzzle. Now, Lord McGuffin was an avid golfer, and he always liked to wager on a game. I glanced over at Lizzie. She was smiling. My plan was working... So he won that thousand pounds from none other than... I turned and pointed to Mrs. McGuire. The maid.  
  
Which one was that again? Ethan's stepmom asked, interrupting my big moment.  
  
Mrs. McGuire? Something in the water, I'm telling you...  
  
C'mon, Tawny, you're embarrassing me, Ethan said as he turned red. I laughed at the stupidity of the whole situation.  
  
Mrs. McGuire stomped back into the loight.  
  
That's right, I did it, she announced once again in her thick Cockney acent. And I'd do it again! McGuffin promised to marry me but cheated on me. He cheated at horse racing and he cheated on his taxes. He was a monster...a louse, and I'm glad he's dead. I'm happy about it, don't you see? He's dead! He's dead! He's dead, he's dead, he's dead! I'm happy about it! The words overly dramatic' came to mind.  
  
Finally, Mr. McGuire put a hand on her shoulder.   
  
he said, gently.  
  
she yelled, still in character. He just grinned at her. She chuckled. Gordo caught me. She tried to recover herself. Found me out.  
  
Wow, Gordo, you're like one giant brain, Ethan said, brilliantly. Except...you have legs. So you're....not in a jar...  
  
I nodded sarcastically.  
  
Soon everyone was out of their chair and mobbing me with congratulations. I shook practically everyone's hand. For just a second, I looked over at Lizzie and smiled. And she smiled back.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
I opened the front door to the front porch, Lizzie following close behind me. I knew I was in for something big to happen here. Now I'd figured out the mystery....so things could go my way, after all. It was just a matter of whether I could work up the courage.  
  
Lizzie said, happily. Congratulations, old chap.  
  
I said, uncomfortably. You did really well, too.  
  
Well, you're the one that everyone was talking about. I mean...people noticed you. If only she realized I didn't care. If only she realized that I only cared if she noticed me. All I had to do was tell her. And she'd know. It was that simple...but it wasn't.  
  
Yeah, well... I swallowed the lump in my throat. I shouldn't care what people think. It's not that important. I still hadn't made eye contact with her yet. I looked her face, her hair, her hands, anything but her eyes.  
  
She looked down and smiled faintly.  
  
she sighed. You impressed me.   
  
I wanted to scream at that moment. Things were rocky in the beginning, but everything seemed to be falling into place. I knew what I had to do now.  
  
I did? Great! Oh, God, that was a little too enthusiastic. I had to save myself from further humiliation... You're my best friend. Why wouldn't I want to impress you? Nice save, but I was still nervous beyond reason. And...and you were very impressive, too, I said shakily. You know, with the uh... The words were on the tip of my tongue, but my nerves got the best of me, and it wouldn't come out. I looked straight at her, and she was smiling...knowingly. She knew...she knew.   
  
she started. I impressed you, and you impressed me. It's all good.  
  
I said, barely looking up. All systems go.  
  
I sensed a bit of a lull in our conversation. I had to seize the opportunity. I could do this. It wasn't that bad. This was Lizzie...she wouldn't be too harsh. Would she? No, she wouldn't. My palms were sweating and my heart pace quickened. This was beyond monumental. There were no words to describe what I was feeling. Somewhere in the back of my head lurked the thought that was one of those defining moments, whether it worked out in my favor, or not. I sensed it. I couldn't stand here all day. So I took one last breath and began...  
  
You know, Lizzie... I inched closer towards her. Maybe sometime we could um... Don't forget the words now, Gordon! You're so close...two more words, just two more words and you can calm down. I was so close to her now I could feel her uneasy breath. You know... No, not those two words...just say them. Say them!  
  
I nearly had a heart attack as Mr. McGuire suddenly busted open the door, interrupting the moment.  
  
Hey, Lizzie, he said, eagerly. You're missing the eel-cooking competition!  
  
She looked away from both me and her dad.  
  
I'll be right there, Dad, she said, dispiritedly.   
  
And so the mood was gone and my confidence shattered. It was a now or never kind of moment...one second too late and I couldn't have.  
  
Fixing her headband, she tried to bring back the mood from just a few seconds ago. Maybe sometime we could...what? She egged me on, urging me to finish my sentence.  
  
But the mood was lost. I couldn't do it now. Not telling her at all hurt more than being rejected would've. I'd just have to tell her...some other time.  
  
I said, as my heart sank to the floor. Just...you know...do this again sometime. I smiled weakly. It's your turn to win.  
  
Sounds good, she sighed, she too sounding a little disheartened. As if she were expecting me to say more. Maybe I'm reading it in too much. Or maybe my hearing is jilted... Um...like, so I guess I'll... She fidgeted. See you later?  
  
I said, feigning enthusiasm. See you.  
  
Good night.  
  
And I walked away. I walked away from the McGuires' house that night the same way I came in...just Gordo. Just Lizzie's friend. And I can't say I'm not disappointed in myself. But it might've been for the best.  
  
So I let Kate be proven correct once again. And I guess I'd just have to deal with the ridicule on Monday. Tonight just...wasn't the night. There'd be other times. Somehow, I felt like my big chance was right around the corner...  
  
Hopefully.  
  
-------------------------------  
  
[A/N: WOO! I'm finally done this. This chapter was over 2,000 words...insane, no? And I got this chapter out a lotttt sooner than I thought I would. That's because I haven't done any work today. Even though I should. So I finished 2 stories today...that is so cool. Now I can get to work on some other stuff. Wahoo for this.  
  
Pleaseee lemme know what you think about this, especially about the ending! Don't be too harsh, though, because I love this chapter and if people diss it, I think I'll cry. Please review. Thanks!  
  
Signing off for this story...keeponwritin. Booyah, recognize.]


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